


Strictly Come Dancing

by Charity_Angel



Series: Dancing in the Stars [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 14:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9389156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charity_Angel/pseuds/Charity_Angel
Summary: The (eventually) smutty epilogue to Dancing in the Stars





	

Rex was nervous as he approached the room Kenobi – Obi-Wan – had specified. It was a part of the Temple he had never visited before and, from the curious looks he was getting from Jedi he encountered in the corridors, it was somewhere that no clone had ever visited before. At least Obi-Wan’s directions had been excellent and Rex could look like he belonged and knew where he was going.

It was a training room, big enough but smaller than the gymnasia on board their ships, sparsely decorated as was the Jedi convention. The only things that marked it as being Jedi rather than GAR was the soft cream of the walls, and a rack near the door that held what appeared to be lightsabres built for small hand.

“Training sabres,” Obi-Wan’s soft voice said, drawing Rex’s attention to him. His armour was missing, as was usual in the Temple, and he wore a pair of soft shoes in place of his usual boots. His leggings clung to slim, strong legs…

“The younglings use them to train before they are ready for their own blade.”

Rex frowned. “Sir?” This couldn’t be why he was here. Skywalker had insisted that Rex know how to use a lightsabre, but actual training was a little beyond him.

He got a soft smile in response. “I think we’re a bit beyond ‘sir’, don’t you?”

He flicked his fingers and music started playing.

“I thought this was a good size for a dance floor,” Obi-Wan explained. “We didn’t get enough of a chance last night.”

Rex had to agree – propriety meant that they only had the one dance, and Ahsoka and Senator Chuchi had cut into that towards the end. Riyo had smiled knowingly and whispered in his ear that they were being too obvious, and Ahsoka was worried for them. But, right here, right now, there was no-one around to judge them.

Obi-Wan held out his hand. “Captain Rex, would you do me the honour of dancing with me?”

 

.oOo.

 

Obi-Wan allowed Rex to take the lead again, explaining that it was standard etiquette for the taller of a same-sex couple to lead. And that, quite honestly, he would rather Rex did so.

The foxtrot started out well: Obi-Wan was as graceful as he had been last night, as graceful as he was in battle. But the close contact, the secluded, almost intimate setting had Rex’s mind flashing back to last night’s conversation, their shared affections, and trying to remember every trick he had ever learned to prevent him embarrassing himself.

“I want to apologise,” Obi-Wan said without missing a step.

“What for, s… Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “For walking away from you last night.”

Rex froze. He had spent most of last night mentally kicking himself for letting that happen, but this? He hadn’t expected this at all. This couldn’t possibly be happening, could it?

“You deserve so much more than that,” Obi-Wan was saying. “We may not have the luxury of…”

He shut up when Rex kissed him, a lot less tentatively than he had done the previous night, possessive hands cupping his cheek and sliding around the back of his head. And Obi-Wan responded enthusiastically; a moan low in his throat and his body moulding to Rex’s. A hand slid over his ass. He could feel warmth through his body suit, and curling around his mind. That was something that should have felt wrong, but for some reason didn’t.

Obi-Wan pulled back, but left his forehead resting against Rex’s.

“Sorry,” he said, sounding a little breathless. “Was I projecting?”

Rex chuckled. “You carry right on.”

There was something like embarrassment in the back of his mind. “Perhaps not,” Obi-Wan said softly. “Not if today goes the way I would like, anyway. We’re surrounded by people an awful lot more sensitive than you, Rex.”

Oh. Oh, yes, that would be bad. The pair of them quietly defying regs was one thing: flaunting the fact was just asking for trouble that no-one needed right now.

There was something more important in what Obi-Wan had just said. Rex knew his fingers tightened against Obi-Wan’s scalp when he worked it out, tugging on the hair, because he gasped. It was a low, sultry sound that had Rex clawing harder to his self-control.

“Let’s do something about today going the way you want,” he murmured.

He could feel Obi-Wan smile, his mouth curving against Rex’s palm, and the way that feeling in his mind shifted once again. It resounded with delight and lust and something that Rex couldn’t quite identify. 

“Let’s.”

 

.oOo.

 

Rex wasn’t entirely sure how they made it through the Temple and into the half-familiar environment of Kenobi and Skywalker’s common room. Given how quickly Obi-Wan’s nimble fingers started stripping his armour from him – the second the door shut – it was a wonder they hadn’t left a whole host of scandalised Jedi in their wake. Or maybe they had?

No, they couldn’t have. Not only was Rex pretty positive they had appeared completely casual as they walked the corridors of the Temple, discussing troop morale (fairly high, since a) they had been out at 79s the previous night, and b) some of the younger senators had posted vids of the ball to HoloTube and Jesse just happened to stumble across them), but the tickling caress of Obi-Wan’s emotions in the back of his head had subsided. It was still there, that foreign but entirely welcome presence, but it was nothing but a whisper now.

Rex felt that he should be doing something, but there was also something in him that just enjoyed the attention, relished the feeling of Obi-Wan’s hands as those long, clever fingers worked, unfastened every latch point, brushing against the fabric of his bodysuit. There was just enough sensation that Rex could easily imagine them on his skin instead.

He closed his eyes and _revelled_ in it.

“Hedonist,” Obi-Wan said, laughing as he divested Rex of his left glove and pressed his lips to the tips of Rex’s fingers.

Rex groaned and didn’t even bother to refute the accusation. He ran the pad of his thumb over Obi-Wan’s lips, just wanting to feel that soft skin. The surprisingly soft hair of Obi-Wan’s beard tickled against his palm.

Suddenly, his thumb was surrounded by warm, wet heat. Rex’s eyes flew open.

Obi-Wan looked positively sinful as he met Rex’s eyes. His tongue caressed the tip of Rex’s thumb, and Rex couldn’t help but whimper.

Obi-Wan gave one single, powerful suck as he pulled Rex’s thumb from his mouth. “Oh, I can’t wait to suck your cock, if that’s what you look like from just one little thumb.”

Rex realised at that moment that he wasn’t going to die on the battlefield, killed by some Seppie droid that got lucky: he was going to be killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi, right here and now. And he would very much like it if he got his karking crotch plate off _before_ he expired.

The evil Jedi kneeling at his feet chuckled.

“You’re the one projecting now,” he was informed, in a voice that sounded far too prissy for what they were doing. But the feeling in his head was amused and affectionate.

“And you’re not?” Rex said. His voice was too shaky. “I can still feel you, up here.”

Obi-Wan’s expression softened. “That’s just you,” he said. “No-one else can pick that up now, and I like that you can feel it.”

There was a warmth in Rex’s soul that had little and everything to do with that link with Obi-Wan: Obi-Wan _wanted_ the connection, wanted Rex to know more about him than Rex would ever know about anyone else.

Clones were trained early to shield themselves so that they didn’t inflict themselves on those Jedi who were sensitive to such things. Rex had no idea just how to do anything other than shield, but he desperately wanted to be able to return the favour.

Obi-Wan unfastened the final plate – and damn him anyway for leaving it so long, the tease – and stood. He cupped his hands round Rex’s face and met his eyes levelly.

“I can see in your face and your eyes how much you want to reciprocate,” he said, his voice gentle. “It’s okay that you can’t, but we can work on if it you want to because I think you probably could.

“But, right here, right now, that isn’t you, and I don’t want you to try to be someone you’re not just because you think that’s what I want.”


End file.
